


To Mold

by properlycolorful



Category: Hush (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6845836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/properlycolorful/pseuds/properlycolorful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can still feel her body thumping underneath him. He breaks away, taking in every detail of her, wishing to just mold into one being until he could see the life leave her body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Mold

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I-- see the I there, it means just me-- wanted from the movie ending. Personally, in my distorted mind, I felt like The Man had an attraction to Maddie, an obsession or a little crush, not one that was strong enough to detract from the situation, but enough that he was attracted to her in a very confusing way. He liked who Maddie was and the fight pouring in her veins; I think he found her rather endearing to be honest.
> 
> You know what? Just forget about me. Do not listen to my nonsensical babble. Just because I liked the chemistry between the two actors does not mean I condone murder, violence, physical abuse, or any of that. Obviously! 
> 
> Obviously, the dude was crazy and no one should ever be with someone like that-- come on, let's be realistic about things now. Fanfiction is just for entertainment. Got it? Okay. Please refrain from pouring comments about me condoning abuse. I'm just writing out the ending I wanted and exploring the amazing, and yet complex relationship of the two characters. Okay? Okay.

It felt surreal.

Her breath so faint underneath his palms. He could almost feel her heart slow down, so slowly, so gradually. He could feel the quiver in her chest and the sounds thumping in her throat. All of those sensations, all of those _vibrations_ , were just at the palm of his hands. He almost couldn't help tightening it; he could never control himself in a situation like this. To feel her, so fragile, so stiff, underneath his hands, was such an intoxicating feeling. All of that fire, all of that power, drained beneath him, right in his grip.

 _He needed more. He_ wanted more.

He could feel her hands losing all of that _strength,_ all of that ridiculous _fire._ It was his to take now—

_And it felt so good, so intoxicating!_

He could feel the thump in her heart slow down. And her hope, that _sweet, sweet_ hope—it was intoxicating, she was intoxicating. He had never felt this way before; every body was an adventure, but she was plane and he could go wherever he wanted with her.

Tightly, firmly, his hands grip her long and _tender_ and _frail_ neck. He waits for that moment, that moment before she slips, that moment where she encounters the light and the dark, and he just waits. He waits so that he can meet her there and be the last very thing she sees—the last face, the last memory. To have that moment with her, to be able to see it, was something he would never forget—Maddie was just a little bit different than all the others, _no_?

Suddenly, her eyelids flutter, quickly at first, then slowly. After that, goes her hands, one then the other. And then, slowly, her heart. _Bump_. Bump.

 _Bump_.  _Bump.._

 _...Bump_.  _Bump_.

It was beautiful—that sound. It was a gorgeous rhythm right under his fingers. _That fire slowly dispersing, slowly fading away,_ even as it had been such a beautiful sight to see—those eyes and those shoulders, all puffed up, the little mouse gawking up at the cat. It was _beautiful,_ but it had to be destroyed. It had to be removed; he came here for a reason and it had been a fun just enough.

He leans forward, his hands going soft and instead gliding softly beneath her neck, and presses his lips against her forehead. _And oh—the scent, the soft skin, the fire still sizzling in her skin—it was more than intoxicating, no, no, no—it was quite wonderful._ He doesn't know if she even knew that—how wonderful she could have been, how strong that heat was inside of her. The fact that he took it from her, ripped it from her, is something that completely takes his breath away.

He can still feel her body thumping underneath him. He breaks away, taking in every detail of her, wishing to just mold into one being until he could see the life leave her body. He thinks—

 _What if I just take her? What if I keep her with me, locked in a small little cage? What if I bring her..._ alive _? If I keep her there,_ alive _, but_ just barely _, always reigniting the fire just so I can take it away from her? What if I let her fight every often? Let her think she can make it? Watch that strength wash over and away?_

It would be hard though; she was a fighter, a delicious challenge. She would not stay down and he loved that about her—no, _he doesn't want her to. He wants her to keep fighting. So, what would he do? He could—_

Then, he feels it. The blood floods into his mouth, a river that he's drowning in. His neck stings, and then, after it's his chest that's violently thrashing. He feels the side of his neck and it's a corkscrew—a f _reaking_ corkscrew. For a second, he's disappointed, for a second, he's betrayed, but then he's just angry; _how dare she take that fire from his hands, where it was pulsing and throbbing and_ thumping?

His eyes roll to the back of his head before he even realizes that he's dead—and he's gone.

Maddie finds her breath; _in, out, in, out,_ and she's alive. Her heart is thumping and beating violently; she can feel the vibration in her chest. She's alive, _she's_ alive!

It's not until later, when she sits outside, staring at the flashing police lights, feeling her breath grasp at her throat, when she realizes that she had almost let herself die. She had almost sat there, stared into the light, and let _him_ kiss her. She didn't want it, _no she could never want anything from anyone,_ but she had sat there. She had sat there and, and—smelled the line of his neck. _There was just a brief moment, just a mere second, where she felt them mold together, violently, clashing,_ and just sat there.

_And for that, she could never forgive herself._

 

 


End file.
